


Freedom For Lonely Pilots

by FindingZ



Series: PsiiKat for all your fluff/hc needs [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anxiety, Emotional Healing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feelings, Fluff and Angst, Kissing, M/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sweet Sweet Smooching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 04:30:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4815077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FindingZ/pseuds/FindingZ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For some reason, you don't mind kissing Karkat. </p>
<p>(Alternately titled "Soft Cuddly PG Smooches For All Your Emotional Needs")</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freedom For Lonely Pilots

On the Helm, the engineers would joke amongst themselves that they'd found a use for every part of your body except your mouth. That they'd figured out how to tie every neuron to the battleship, how to link every electrical impulse within you to furthering the goals of the Empire, but no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't get you to shut up.

She knew it too, but instead of ordering them to work harder, to find a way, she'd come up to the Bridge and unclip enough of your wiring to allow her to slip inside your suit as you hung there. She'd kiss you, to keep you quiet.

(someone found out, someone saw the camera footage, the footage she'd ordered you to erase but you hadn't, you hadn't because you wanted there to be a record of what she did to you in case one day she came and told you it never happened and you couldn't remember if you should believe her or not. Someone saw and told their friends and laughed, and the engineers had leered at you when they came to check your circuits the next day)

When you'd died, when you'd come into existence in the nothingspace and had to build a reality for yourself, you'd encountered Meulin (blank eyes useless ears but the same bright bright smile). She'd bounded right up to you with a squeal and a flurry of gestures that flew by too fast for you to catch, and had kissed you on the cheek. Except you were tall, taller than either of you remembered, so she had lunged and her aim had been off - half of her mouth ended up slanting across yours.  

You don't quite remember what happened after that. Your next memory is of you in your dream-hive and you are talking to two Meulins but neither are the one you first met, and when you ask about the other one they look at you with unreadable faces and leave shortly after that.

The Empress kissed you to strip you of the last iota of rebellion you possessed, to make you seem pliant and willing because she wanted you to be willing, _"that's all I ever wanted, 'Tuna baby, all I want from you, it ain't that complicated,"_ and it was easier for her to pretend if she held your mouth hostage.

Kissing makes your horns spark and your breathing go off the charts, makes your body shake and your mind bring up every slip-slide of her hands down your torso, over the soft of your stomach. Just thinking about it for too long is apt to give you a migraine.

But Karkat, though - you don't mind kissing Karkat.

He didn't want to, didn't want to ask you at first because he knew (knew _you_ ), and so the most he'd do would be to press his lips to your horns every once in a blue moon (it always makes you cry when he does that, because you could _hurt_ him, you could cook his mind to a crisp and neither of you know how injury here translates to reality so you've always been careful, so careful, but he goes and does things like nip at the tips of your horns just minutes after they sparked and put singe marks on his clothing - he's so _trusting_ ). But one night he came to you twitching all over with anger he was trying to shield from you and you wanted to _help him_ so you just

leaned over.

_He's very warm,_ is what you think, and then Karkat is pushing you away, pushing himself away, all flailing limbs and frantic noises and you go cold inside because you've done it, haven't you. Of all the ways to damage the little oasis of peace that you had stumbled across, it had to be a _kiss..._?

"Why did you do that?" He asks, and his hands come up to grip your arms. Holding you away from him. "Why did you, why - "

"I thought, I thought that you. Needed it." You try to wrench yourself free, to put yourself at a more than respectable distance to prove that you've stopped, you aren't going to push him, aren't going to try and babble nonsense like _I thought you wanted this/thought you were depriving yourself because of me/thought I could make it better/I'm sorry/I'm sorry._ "I'm sorry."

He grapples with you for a minute and you flinch, thinking he's going to shove you off the pile, but he's dragging you closer, tucking himself into your chest and breathing over your heart. He doesn't speak for a little while (you don't dare, either), and then:

"...you don't like kissing."

"I don't," you say (see how he tenses, closes his eyes, if you weren't wearing your shirt you'd feel his eyelashes against your skin). "But I think I like kissing you."

"...why?" Soft, shy voice.

"I don't know," you say. "Because you needed it. And it doesn't - with you it doesn't make me..."

He doesn't let the sentence trail away. "Make you...?"

Words escape you at the critical moment and you end up fluttering your hands by your horns as an answer. His breath leaves him with a harsh noise.

"Do you - are you, I mean, I don't want you to...don't do it for me, don't, _please_."

"I'm not - _I_ started it."

"That doesn't mean a thing," he says, and then dips his eyes. You try to follow them, but get lost in the way his horns are just barely visible through his hair (he really should cut it - should you cut it for him? You know he won't do it himself). "But, but if you're okay, if you're _sure_ you're okay, can we..."

"Can we?" (you know what he's going to say but he has to be the one to say it, you can't fill in the blanks for him)

"Could we...try that again?"

You nod, but he doesn't move, just sits there and looks at you intently.

"Are you _sure_ \- "

You kiss him again. Close mouthed, chaste, just barely grazing your lips to his, but you are humming inside, all systems running self-diagnostics because you don't want to be _not_ sure and hurt him by accident.

You are very, very sure.

When the Empress kissed you, it was about her own goals, her own pleasures. This is just...exploring. You are merely investigating an aspect of Karkat you haven't encountered before. The way the rough skin of your lips grazes over his (smooth, unscarred - he doesn't chew on his as you do yours) gives you the same quiet feeling that you get from resting your chin in the crook of his neck.

Karkat pulls back, breathes a sigh over your lips. He's trying not to smile (which makes you smile), and when you bring up your hand to scritch at the soft hairs at the back of his neck he makes a small noise that makes your eyelids flutter closed for two heartbeats.

"Oh, you _do_ ," he says, and it's like his face is cracking open. "You _do,_ you actually - can I, please?"

His hands come up to frame your face when you nod, but he doesn't exert any pressure, doesn't try to push or pull you to his liking, just lets you _be_ , lets you tilt your head to the side on your own willpower, lets you part your lips a fraction of a hair as you lean in for the third time, without any influence from him. You're free.

He tastes like clean air and dry skin. You chase after the flavor, catching his lower lip between your teeth and running your tongue over it. You had no idea this was what Karkat tasted like - how could you not have known? This is natural, what you're doing is natural, how he tastes and smells is completely natural. His hair slips through your fingers and his whole body relaxes in shuddering waves when you rub the pads of your fingers along the surface of his horns. It's _natural_.

You've tilted his head back to get at his upper lip and you pull back hastily when his back spasms from the angle. "S-sorry. I'm." You have to clear your throat. A few sparks escape you at the feeling of thick strands of saliva (not yours, not yours) trickling down to your stomach. "I'm sorry."

His hands reach for you and scrabble at your clothing before he manages to (sluggishly, sleepily) open his eyes. He catches you and pulls you back in. "Stop interrupting. Unless it's to say stop, obviously - "

"All right. Um, should we...?" You tuck your chin to your chest so you can speak without distraction (him, of course. He is your distraction, always your distraction). "A pile? Instead of, instead of this." You toss your hands at the nutritionblock.

(look at you, kissing your morail right out in the middle of your nutritionblock. Not a pileable object in sight, for shame, for shame, he deserves better. So much better)

He smiles at you and tugs you towards your respiteblock, not loosening his grip on you in the slightest.

A pile stretches from wall to wall of your block by the time you get there. You recognize a few of Karkat's things mixed in, but don't bother to examine it any more closer than that. Karkat pulls you down until you're both kneeling in the center of the block.

"Thank you," he says, and his eyes are warm and soft. "Thank you, thank you, I can't - I promise I won't ask it of you too often, I swear it. Thank you." You think he might cry.

You kiss his nose, trying to be as gentle as the puff of air that washes over your face from him when you do. His eyes close again and he remains perfectly still (like he's dreaming). When you touch his lips again, he cups both his hands around your larger horns, and you are immediately surrounded by the heat of him, radiating out from your chest and reaching every inch of you. You revel in the little sigh he makes, echo it with one of you own. This is a natural thing, like breathing. Like freedom. You're _free_.

_I am okay,_ you think, and for once there are no other thoughts. Just a clean, white expanse of _Karkat, Karkat, Karkat._ He tilts his face up to you again (his eyelashes are so long, so _long,_ how can he see properly?) and smiles so sweetly into your mouth, humming with happiness when you press him down, down into the cushions, being sure to nest him among the softest pillows. You roll off of him, and lay on your side next to him, watching. His eyes are huge and open and you feel like you're falling into his mind, like you're in space again.

"You're sure this is all right?" He asks, and you know he's so unsure, so, _so_ unsure, because this one aspect has been one of the defining boundaries in your relationship and he's confused because he doesn't know why you've changed so suddenly. He doesn't know why he's made you change, and he's anxious.

You pity him so.

"Yes," you breathe, and press your lips to his temple. "It is very, very much all right."

"We're going to be okay." He says, so softly, like he's trying to reassure himself. "Aren't we?"

"Yes. Yes, yes." You press your foreheads together. "We are." And it's so easy to believe, so _easy_ to accept, and when you touch mouths again the whole universe seems to align for you, just for a little while. Time slows, and you are at peace in ways you haven't experienced in millennia.

_We are going to be okay,_ you think, and press yourself closer to him (to home).

_It's all going to be okay._


End file.
